


Happy Birthday

by SugarGlaze



Category: One Piece
Genre: Belly Kink, Birthday Smut, F/M, Porn With Plot, Size Kink, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:54:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25210462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SugarGlaze/pseuds/SugarGlaze
Summary: Every year reader plays for the King of Dressrosa. This year is no different, except for the sex that ensues.
Relationships: Donquixote Doflamingo/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 66





	Happy Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> A/n: read at your own risk; it's smutty and ill written. Thank you. No bad comments, just go back. Unless you like this sort of smut.

You should have declined; torn the invitation in two and went about your monotonous day, had you known how the night would end.

_Better engagements will come along._

_As if._

Choices like this are not yours to make. An invite to the castle is not an option to squander. You doubt that you will ever play in Dressrosa again if you were to turn down the shot to perform at the current king’s birthday party. It’s like this every year since Gatz told him about you; an invite arrives and you consider tearing it apart.

You know you shouldn’t, but that doesn’t mean you don’t think about doing it. Beni – your brother – says that you’re acting like a child. You convince him to come along; mainly to watch you, ane because there is a piece you want to play.

As darkness consumes Dressrosa you are ushered into a small room set up as a dressing room to prepare. You sit in front of a mirror and stare at your gloomy painted expression. Why did it have to be this way? And where is Beni? Everything about tonight annoys you; the short dress you’re wearing, the distant chatter of the guests in the next room.

“This is terrible,” you whine.

Beni returns from the banquet hall; platter of coral macaroons in hand, and sits them down next to you. About damn time.

“Don’t tear into them just yet. We’re about to go on,” he states.

You sigh in disappointment – the desserts are one of the few things you take delight in, coerced into parties such as this.

“How much longer?”

Beni hums. “Not sure. Soon I was told.”

“I sure hope so.”

You honestly want to get this over and done with. Beni takes a seat on the settee beside you and sighs.

“Are we ready?”

He looks to you for an answer – instruments and act; check – but even you aren’t mentally sure. Giving him a fake smile, you can’t help but to feel annoyed with yourself. It’s far too late to change your mind now.

Like the year before, Gatz calls you to the stage. You follow Beni into the banquet hall, taking your position at his side. The room goes eerily quiet and you force a smile, drawing your bow across the strings of the fiddle you love so much.

The performance begins.

Right from the start the piece is high charged. You rap the heel of your boot on the stone floor, lost in your music. Beni follows, strumming on his guitar. His playing is much louder; aggressive even.

You scold him with a wag of your finger and saunter forward towards the front of the stage, agreeing to his challenge with furious notes. He joins you again once the peak leading into the chorus builds up, but you easily dominate him; smile on your face.

Beni raises a brow; it’s a war.

At times you allow him to defeat you to build suspense, and he allows you to do the same. You dance together and sometimes pretend to be blown away by one another, but alas the cunning heroine wins. The piece ends with you panting in exhaustion, sweat coating your skin.

The banquet hall erupts in a chorus of applause. Even the King claps; tongue tracing his bottom lip. You give a bow to him, in relief that Doflamingo seems pleased. Beni takes your hand and quickly pulls you from the stage, leading you back to the dressing room.

“That was tense,” he states with a laugh. Beni shuts the door behind him.

You agree while collapsing back onto the settee. “He liked it; I’m so thrilled.”

Tossing Beni a macaroon you too eat one; you certainly deserve it for surviving another birthday.

Alas, the fun doesn’t seem to end. As you are packing up your fiddle someone knocks on the door. You give Beni a shocked look, pleading with him not to open it, but he does.

The woman behind the door you recognize. Baby 5 is the name she calls herself; a slim woman with black hair. You feel nervous. Did something happen? Was the King not pleased?

She enters the room and locks eyes with you. “The Young Master wants an audience with you. He insists you stay until the party is over and bring your case.”

You frown; somehow you doubt no is an option. Dread fills your stomach. Beni seems reluctant with this decision, but you assure him that you will be fine. Honestly you aren’t too sure. Before she leaves, Baby 5 mentions that she will return to escort you to the King once the party is over. You nod in agreement.

What could he want from you?

* * *

As planned, Baby 5 returns around midnight to retrieve you. Beni left hours ago, but he’s the least of your worries.

You quietly follow her through the castle, head bent towards the floor in gloom. She brings you to a large set of doors and knocks loud enough for the King to hear, allowing you to enter once he grants you access. Baby 5 shuts the door behind you and leaves you to his mercy.

The dread returns. The first thing you notice is that you’re in his chamber; a spacious room with a large bed and many book shelves. The King himself is seated in a chair near the far wall. He motions you forward with a finger and smiles as you hesitantly submit.

“Have a seat.”

You nod and seat yourself in the chair in front of him. It’s several times wider than you, but you ignore it and place your case in your lap, urging yourself to get comfortable. Once you do, despite the situation, you wait for him to speak.

“How many birthday parties have you entertained for me now?”

You hum in thought. “This will be the third year, I believe.”

“And you also play at the colosseum as well I’ve heard,” Doflamingo mentions.

You nod. It’s an honor; at the same time, it scares you. Did you upset him or someone from his family? Tears sting your eyes. “If me or my brother have done some––

He brings up his hand to stop you. “Fufufufu! No reason to worry yourself; though I find it amusing how skittish you are with me. It’s rather cute.”

Embarrassment warms your face. “Can you blame me? You are a king; I am a mere musician.”

“That’s extremely honest of you,” he mocks with a laugh. “But also, the reason you’re here. I want you to play me a song.”

For a second his words you don’t comprehend. Did he request a private performance? You smile; all the worries fade away.

“I’d love to play for you. It would be an honor.”

Opening up the case, you retrieve your fiddle and set it into position. He nods to urge you to continue, but once you start; a few slow notes in, Doflamingo stops you. What could be wrong? You freeze up in fear.

“I want to see you how you are on stage – erotic and intense.”

You seem to understand. “May I stand up?”

“Be my guest,” Doflamingo replies.

Getting back onto your sore feet, you start again. The piece also calls for a piano; in fact, it sets the mood for the beginning, but you make do without it. You tap the strings with the beat in your head and once the fiddle solo begins, you dance in a line from side to side as you play, rapping your boots on the floor and swaying your hips.

The notes slow down before the chorus and you slide the pointed toe of your boot in a wide circle across the floor. At the next verse, you really put your all into it, playing faster. Your entire body moves to the beat like an erotic dance and once the piece is done, you are panting in utter exhaustion.

Doflamingo seems pleased. He again licks his bottom lip and claps his hands. You bow and plop back down on the chair.

“Finished already? I haven’t told you to stop playing yet.”

Your face heats up. Is he serious? The strings are worn; there is no way another performance like the previous one can be done without replacing the strings first.

“My apologies, your grace. I acted without your blessing,” you blather out.

Doflamingo laughs. “No worries, little mouse.”

His smile fades and he stands to his full height, sauntering over to you. He’s taller up close. You sink back into the chair and stare at him with wide and horrified eyes. Only when he moves behind the chair do you lose sight of him.

His fingers slide into your hair, sending shivers down your spine. “Let me show you my thanks.”

He tilts back your head and leans down to place a hard kiss on your lips. A grunt of surprise leaves you. What is he doing? Why is he kissing you like this? Your eyes widen in shock. He’s not serious, is he?

Doflamingo pulls away and takes your hand, leading you from the chair over to the bed. This is really happening; he really wants to fuck you. Did your music do this to him? You bite you bottom lip; you should tell him no, but honestly you want him to fuck you.

He lets you go and allows you to hesitantly crawl onto the bed. You sit on the edge since your boots are still on, but he doesn’t seem to care as he bends to his knees and begins to remove them. A King isn’t supposed to do this. Strangely enough it makes you wet.

Once your boots are off and gone, Doflamingo leans up and presses his mouth against yours again. You kiss his bottom lip, moaning as he rubs his thumbs into your bare thighs. He reaches up into your short dress and tugs your panties down your legs.

“Lean back,” he orders.

You do so, watching him in embarrassment as he spreads your legs and rests them over his shoulders. _Oh God please._ Your prayers are answered as he lifts your hips and closes his lips around your clit, sucking lightly.

You moan and arch your hips. His warm breath fans out across your pussy as he leans back and eases his long tongue into your hole. Waves of pleasure consume you. He feels good.

“P-please, my lord … please don’t stop.”

Doflamingo smiles against you. His mouth returns to your clit; tongue drawing circles into your bundle of nerves. The sensation in the pit of your stomach grows. It won’t be long now. Sadly, he doesn’t allow you to get off and leans up with a smile. You grunt in annoyance; your arousal gleams across his lips.

Standing up, he urges you back further on the bed. You watch him take off his pants, freeing his swollen and rather long cock. He certainly is a large man, you think; not only his stature. Doflamingo crawls over you and moves your short legs to rest at his hips.

How will it fit? You try and relax your tense body as the engorged head inches into your core. Wet or not it hurts a bit; your tight walls stretch to accommodate him. Doflamingo seems unresponsive to your obvious struggle, because quickly he thrusts himself to the base inside of you, robbing you of your breath. A gasp escapes your mouth; sharp and burning pain strings your insides, but again, he seems not to care. He thrusts roughly into you.

You bring up your hands and push at his stomach. You don’t want him to stop, only to back away a bit. Every thrust hits your cervix in a harsh way that brings tears to your eyes.

“Relax,” he grunts. His eyes are hidden, but you can hear the irritation in his voice.

What does he expect? Someone as small as you can’t be expected to take a cock as large as his so easily. You nod and try to bear it for a bit longer. The uncomfortable pain is sure to go away. The stretch is a dull sting at this point. You feel good; so full that you doubt even a finger can fit into you. Have you ever felt this full before? It’s intense. You pant in satisfaction as he continues to thrust into you.

Arching your back to meet his thrusts, you relish in the fact your lower abdomen bulges when he pushes roughly into you. This has never happened before. You rub the area, moaning as you feel it press into your palm. It’s not a terrible sensation. You aren’t sure whether it’s normal or whether you are supposed to like it, but you do; fluid leaks down your thighs.

“Good little mouse. You’re taking me well for someone so small,” Doflamingo grunts. His mouth hangs open in satisfaction, but his smile never fades.

It’s a kink to him, it seems. His grace takes delight in watching his cock fit into someone much smaller than him. You swipe your tongue across your swollen lips. How lewd of him; how wicked.

“I feel so full … so good,” you sigh.

His thrusts gain intensity. You nearly cry out as his thumb finds your clit, rubbing small and deep circles; round and round. Your eyes roll back in bliss as his thrusts match the alacrity of his fingers. Waves of pleasure consumes you.

Your body tenses up as you come undone, moaning softly. Doflamingo lets your orgasm ride out, then pulls out. Your core spasms around nothing, and he notices.

“Fufufufu. Done already, little mouse?”

Tears blur your eyes. You feel exhausted; your throat is dry and sore, but strangely you miss the contact. You want him back inside of you. He never even got off. There’s no warm and wet mess on your thighs – except your own.

You clutch his hips and urge him forward. The head of his cock pushes against your entrance, but glides up your slit and nudges your clit. You moan in protest, short nails burying into his skin.

“Patience. You got yours.”

A whine leaves you, but you agree with him.

“Turn over and submit yourself to me,” Doflamingo commands.

You do as he orders, rearing your ass once you’re on your hands and knees in front of him. Your face is consumed in heat, but with your head pressed into the mattress you’re certain that he can’t see. Unfortunately, neither can you. Touch is the only sensation he allows you. 

His large hands grab the fleshy globes of your ass, spreading your cheeks. He thankfully lines himself back up and thrusts into you. His fingers dig into your hips, keeping you in place as he fucks you. It feels deeper this way; a little less intimate, but honestly you don’t care.

At one point he stops and allows you to rock your hips back, fucking yourself on his cock. Drool leaks from the corner of your mouth. Pleasurable as it is, Doflamingo seems to dislike the slow buildup and lifts you up, resting your exhausted body against his chest as he continues. His thumb finds your clit and within minutes you cum again. It’s too much; too intense for you.

Your body nearly collapses onto the mattress, but Doflamingo holds you up as he reaches his own high, removing his cock from your abused walls to cover your thighs and the bedsheets in spurts of his warm cum. A shiver runs down your spine. This is honestly something you never expected to happen; you don’t mind at the moment – fucked out of your mind – but how can you ever look your king in the eye after this. You won’t be able to even play in front of him again without thinking about this moment.

In any case, your welcome feels overstayed. You pull away from Doflamingo, legs shaking in protest, and move towards the edge of the bed. Your panties are somewhere; you just have to redress and leave. 

“I thought we made it clear that until I dismissed you, you aren’t allowed to leave,” he coos. His arm slides around your waist, drawing you back onto the bed with him.

Your head rests against his heaving chest, but your eyes remain closed, listening to his labored breathing.

“Give me a minute, little mouse. The night is still young, and there’s still much I want to do to you.”

You feel too tired to protest and simply nod. Maybe you won’t faint on him; it’s possible. He’s way too much for you.

_Happy birthday._


End file.
